THE PREPOSTEROUS BOLLOX OF THE SITUATION

A collection of stuff, things, nonsense, rants, raves, pretties, sillies, and gee-gaws from Rev. Hugo Nebula, Ordained Minister of the Church of the SubGenius. (And boobs. Sometimes there are boobs. Just like in real life.) Thank you for reading.
 

 

 

 

 
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Posts tagged "horror"
swampthingy:

Night of the Demon (1957)

swampthingy:

Night of the Demon (1957)

9filmframes:

A couple ghost stories.

The Innocents, Carnival of Souls

The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2005)

(via horrormoviefreak)

frigity-frack-the-cat-is-back:

Nightmare fuel

Welcome, new follower sirsugarloafs!

frigity-frack-the-cat-is-back:

Nightmare fuel

Welcome, new follower sirsugarloafs!

(via sirsugarloafs)

"The idea of a paperback original series in the horror genre was a unique one when the six-volume Blackwater began publication by Avon Books in January 1983. Written by the prolific Michael McDowell (1950-1999), it was a many-generational story set in Alabama, a Southern Gothic-lite, mixing soap opera and horror tropes with equal ease, to be published one a month for six months…"

"Angela Carter… was not a horror writer in the same sense as Anne Rice or Stephen King; the bulk of her work is classified as magical realism (a made-up, jerk-off genre that permits English departments to acknowledge the existence of the human imagination), but her most celebrated book is a high gothic collection of short stories called The Bloody Chamber that you should read immediately if the genre holds any appeal for you. Or even if it doesn’t…"

Welcome, new follower billmurraay!

(via billmurraay)

"I am standing here seeing it, I am seeing it and took the top off its skull where the brain is and inside, the most delicate writhe, each lobe filigreed, threaded and girdled with silvery death in all its masques and manifestations, in all its irrevocable forms: the elegant pulse of an aneurysm, an extravagant clutch of tumors concealed like an oyster’s pearl, clots like molded caviar and each molecule burning, shining silver light on the bone chips ragged and blood like the swirled center of a dubious treat; and nestled in the rich middle like eggs in a nest, eyes."

Books win awards. Books drink white wine. Books are discussed in hushed tones by earnest scholars. Books are genteel, books are mellow, books are housed in libraries where there is no talking. It’s hard to remember that books can be a punch in the nose, a bottle of beer broken over the head, a gob spat in the eye. Amiri Baraka’s in-your-face plays, Tom Wolfe’s go-go new journalism, Kathy Acker’s punk poetry. These writers set literature on fire and readers could either get on board or fuck off. James Herbert was one of them…”